


I Am (Not)

by PencilWolf15



Series: Eddsworld - Cracked Mirrors [3]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I can't seem to follow my own directions, Just a bit of a feels wringer epilogue for your feels wringer epilogue needs, let Carly be happy dangit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 16:16:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12657045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilWolf15/pseuds/PencilWolf15
Summary: It's been a time since they fled the lab, but one somebody still seems to feel the ill effects of it. Why?





	I Am (Not)

How long had it been? 2 days? 2 weeks? 2 months? It was 2 something, some measurement of time. Hell, it could’ve been 2 years for all he could tell. Everything was just passing him by, blurring with their motion. Where were they? Some country somewhere in Europe, trees and chilly air; might be a nature preserve.

Who was there? Oh yeah, his family; the ragtag five boys who came into his life and became a part of it, supposedly. That was what the memories were telling him. But now there were more, more they brought with them, as they escaped… that place.

Oh yeah, them. He hadn’t even bothered to remember their names. Only two looking totally normal, a freckled dark redhead with brown eyes and the other dark skinned with dark hair but bright blue eyes. They were apparently “misprints,” or something. That's the only info he retained about them.

There was one more “scribble” child, this one being more this Matt person, and was even younger mentally than Scribbs, who got along with him swimmingly. Little boys being friends, it was cute enough for him to retain it. His name is Mathias, he recalls.

There were at least five other fusions like Torm and Redd, almost normal looking but truly far from it. One was a total punk rocker with a half-shaven head and a dozen piercings, and another with “vitiligo” and a third arm sprouting from the armpit of a normal one.

There were three that were a bit more inhuman; a child sized creature with four arms and a whole mess of color on his body, a hunchbacked three eyed one with different colored spouts of hair on different parts of his body, and a walking paradox of a stable unstable clone: viscous, faded, melting constantly. He was an Edd, supposedly.

But then, there was a real monster. A Tom, a huge Tom, with too many eyes, too many mouths, too many arms, and too many legs. He didn’t know anything about him, he was too terrified of his mere presence to stay close to him. He must not mean any harm, seeing as the little scribbles played with him every day, and no one else hesitated around him anymore, but still. How he fit anywhere was a legitimate question.

Were they family now too, or just travel buddies? How much food do they have left? How much gas for the stolen RVs? How much money do they have combined? What will we do when it runs out?

These questions rolled in his numb head, day after day, returning fresh in his mind every morning as if it was the first time he thought of it. Why? Because it drowned out the crawling dark thoughts about what that man told him back in that lab, drowned out the stinging pain that those words meant, leaving behind only numbness on autopilot. He heard no voice calling him, his own voice rang hollow in his ears, he heard no silent rumble of the road, he was just

**“CARLISLE,”**

The sudden hands gripping his shoulders and the stern voice of Thomas shook him out of his deep stupor, him emitting a little gasp at the whiplash of the sudden return to reality. He focused his blurred eyes, first to the yellow turtleneck but then to the hard and tired looking face of his brother. He cracked a small smile, using dusty muscles that have hardly moved at all for quite some time.

“Heyo, Thomas,” his voice crackled from lack of use, “What’s up--?”

“Don't give me that,” Thomas interrupted him. His eyes widened in surprise, “What is wrong? And don’t give me the crap you tell the others, I can see right through that. Something is digging at your mind, and it is hurting you. What, is it?”

Any barrier Carlisle had set up between him and the stabbing thoughts were shredded like paper, making every muscle he had tense up. Ashen fear rose from his feet to his head, and he began to shake. The thoughts were replaying, again and again, in that man’s voice. It rang in his ears like a bell echoing off hills. It hurt, it hurt deep. The feeling of unbeing began to rise. A slight shake of his jacket pulled him out.

“Carly,” Thomas’s voice was dripping with concern, “this is more than just shell shock and stress of the new situation, this is something serious, and you won’t tell anyone what it is. Carlisle please,” his fingers tightened slightly as he pulled him in a little closer, “I don’t want to see you stumble throughout all this like a soldier with a bullet wound in his chest. It’s just you and me right now,” A quick glance around showed they were alone by the RV, “whatever it is, it can’t be so bad as we can’t work through it,” Thomas gave a small, weary smile

 _You don’t know that,_ Carlisle thought, _you don’t know the kind of horrible the news I have is._ He couldn’t stop the tears from forming and eventually falling, the slight smile on Thomas’s face falling with it. Shaking with the tears that have had a long time coming, the man buried his head into his hands, unable to stop the waterworks.

“Carly, Carlisle,” Thomas’s voice grew almost desperate as he lightly shook his shoulders, “are you ok?”

“G-give me until dinner tonight,” the blubbering man blurted out before he knew what he was saying, “then I’ll tell everyone. Just… give me time to work out exactly how to say this,”

Thomas’s expression softened, then he sighed in defeat; this isn’t how he wanted this to go. But still, if something was as big and drastic as to send him into an emotional tailspin, some time to properly get his thoughts together was needed. He relented.

“If you say so, Carly. I trust you,” He helped straighten out his brother’s back, “For now just find a quiet place to cry, get all this out,”

He nodded and watched Thomas walk away towards the fire where the others sat. Tommie and the other scribble child were playing with the monstrous Tom, him smiling ten times over, literally. Everyone who wasn’t in their own conversation had to laugh at how cute it was, and even they had to pause and admire the happiness. Not Carlisle. He had already walked into the RV bathroom and locked the door when he heard the ensuing laughter.

Why did he do that? Why did he say that? That doesn’t help him in the slightest. In fact, it makes all this worse. The others aren't part of this; they were them, with their own business. This was a family matter, between the five that knew him. And now he just promised to tell all of them something that was not only personal, but would shake everything they thought they knew.

He buried his head into his hands and shakingly clawed at his hair, the tears flowing from his eyes burning. This has to be the worst situation anyone anywhere could be in.

**\---**

The sun set too fast, the ones going into town to grab the pizza left and came back too soon. He didn't even remember leaving the RV bathroom and sitting down on a log seat by the fire, but lo and behold, he was there. The hours went by like minutes, no thoughts organized in that time, only spikes in deep anxiety that only got worse as time slowed to a crawl.

We're there five extra large pizza boxes? No, he saw at least four other empty ones get thrown into the fire. Nine pizza boxes? Was that right? There were two slices of pepperoni on a plate on his lap. When did they get there? How long have they been there? He poked them a little: stone cold. Apparently a while. He did not reach to eat, despite noticing a small rumble in his stomach.

He became aware of the feeling of eyes on him. He looked up, Thomas was staring from across the way, expectant. A spike in anxiety made him look away.

“Carlisle,” Thomas’s voice made him flinch into himself, “you promised,” He nodded in response, “I’m waiting,” the man looked back and nodded again, face ashen.

Thomas sighed and stood up, “Your attention please??” He projected his voice enough for everyone gathered around to halt their conversations and look up. Even the scribble children paused, “Carly has some news for us all,” All eyes fell on the shaking man.

The sudden attention only made him panic, “T-Torm, don't you have something to say to Tomato?” He didn’t realize he said anything until he finished.

Torm was three seats to his left, opposite of Thomas, and was now incredulous, “Wh-what? Carly what are you doin’?”

“I-I’m sorry, Torm,” he looked at the fusion, “but I don't want to do this alone,” he was hunched over, arms wrapped around his torso, shaking so hard the cold pizza fell to the dirt, “Don't make me d-do this alone,” a stray tear fell

Torm’s hard expression softened seeing his brother’s state, after all it was familiar. He sighed, “Ok Carly,” he turned his attention to the other fusion in his family, “Tomato, I've been wanting to tell you this for quite some time now,”

Torm proceeded to tell the campfire his story, who he was before, and how he became who he is now. Redd’s face contorted first with surprise, then with tears, and stood up to hug their brother. Carlisle hardly listened, both because he didn't need to and because he was mentally kicking himself for throwing Torm under the bus. Tommie got up from his spot next to Math and gave Torm a big bear hug.

The story ended all too quickly, all the attention back on him. The adrenaline spiked again, the threat of him falling into a panic attack rising. He began to tremble even more.

_No. I have to. They have to know. No more delays. You can do this, just breathe._

Carlisle took in a deep breath and calmed his shakes just a bit. He looked up with resigned eyes, “I… uh, C-Carlisle is…” he suppressed a sob, “I’m a clone,”

It grew eerily quiet around the fire, everyone seeming to hold their breaths in shock. “What?” Thomas’s voice was small, but with the deafening silence he was heard.

“Larry, he told me. Carlisle… is dead,” he turned away, “I’m just a clone of him,” another tear escaped, the shakes coming back.

There was a pause, but someone was incredulous, “H-how do you know he’s not lying to you??” Torm called out, desperation coating every word, “Not trying to get into your head? He-he’d do that, just to make you upset!”

“Because,” he took in a deep breath, trying to stave off the melting feeling, “that feeling you lot told me about, the destabilization feeling, I feel it. I've been feeling it ever since we fled the lab,”

“Are you feeling it now?” It was someone’s voice, but he didn't recognize it. Carly nodded

There were sudden arms around both his neck and his torso, the latter being the smaller set. Redd had gotten up from their seat and practically threw themselves at Carlisle. When they drew out of the hug, there were so many tears in their eyes. The emotions of four different personalities, must be so overwhelming.

Three more sets of arms wrapped around him, and he couldn't help but wail with the anguish of a thousand days. He just let the tears flow, the blocked emotions bursting forth. The feeling of unbeing became duller and duller until it was gone.

Eyes wet and puffy, noses runny, and sleeves stained with tears, they all disbanded the hug. Carlisle had never felt this way before, ever. It wasn’t the feeling of unbeing, if was something… familial, something warm. It was nice, very nice.

He didn’t want the boys to retreat from the hug, but he let them go all the same. The rest of the night was spent feeling like he was glowing. He talked and laughed and ate the new pizza slices that came his way.

But even a glow holds a shadow.

**\---**

Thomas’s consciousness bubbled to the surface, and his non-eyes fluttered before opening. He was tired, but his eyes opened all the same. He jiggled his wrist before glancing at his watch: 2:56am. Not even three hours of sleep before being forced to wake up. He sighed and rubbed his face. There was a slight shuffling noise.

“Thomas?” It was Scribble; in his stable mode, it seemed, “You ‘wake?”

He sighed before answering, “Yeah, little guy, I’m awake. What about you? It’s not even 3,”

“Carly’s out there,” Thomas snapped his attention to the boy; he was staring out the window, “He got up and went outside. I can’t see him now,”

“How long ago?” He pushed the blankets off his legs

“I dunno, a while,”

Thomas got up and looked out the window. It was faced towards the woods, a diminished moonlight filtering through the trees. There was no man in sight anywhere.

“Did he go this way?”

“Yeah,”

He hesitated, “Tommie, go back to sleep. I’ll go get him,”

“Ok,” and he shuffled off towards his pile of blankets and pillows

Thomas paused for a moment, then adjusted his askew turtleneck, unbolted the flimsy RV door, and opened the door a crack. The cold of the night hit him, causing another pause; of course. He sat down on the floor and slipped on his boots before opening the door fully.

His breath fogged up the air around him, causing him to cough a couple times. He walked directly in the line of sight Tommie had, hoping and begging Carlisle didn’t make any changes in direction—

There he was.

Thomas stopped; Carlisle was sitting on a fallen log a small ways, hunched over and stock still. He must not have heard him yet. Thomas turned around, even through the trees and night darkness you could see the RVs, albeit barely. But where Carlisle sat now, he was well out of sight. He probably wanted it to be that way.

He took a few tentative steps closer, he had to have heard him. No reaction. Still as a statue in the cold night.

“Hey,”

The man flinched so hard he yelped and the log thumped with his weight. He whirled around with wide eyes to meet the concerned void-eyes of the other. His gaze softened.

“Hello Thomas,”

“You didn’t hear me approach?”

“N-no. Sorry, mate,”

“That’s not very safe. Anyone could sneak up on you and drag you away,” he chuckled, very little humor on it. He made the other laugh a little too, with just as much humor, “What are you doing out here? It’s cold as death; you could catch something, Carly,”

“Don’t-don’t call me that—“

Thomas let out a groan, not too loud and obnoxious, but enough to stop him in his tracks, “Going to do this, are we? Right then,” he marched over the log, swinging his legs over

“What are you doing?”

“Going to play therapist. Seems to me like you need it,” He sat down with a thump, “no one more qualified for this than me anyway,”

“Oh what do you kn--” Sudden remembrance stopped him dead, “Oh yeah…”

“Yes. Now what’s the matter? I thought you got it all out at the campfire,”

“Eh, well,” He rubbed the back of his head nervously, “That was just one thing, the big thing. It’s a lot more than just breaking the terrible news that the man you were all so close to was dead,”

Thomas paused, “As I can imagine. It’s terrible, and I am grieving for him, but we have you, yeh?”

The troubled man turned his gaze away, “Not a very good replacement,”

“Why not? I never would have guessed you were technically not Carlisle, everything you do is exactly in his character,”

“I just play the part well, I guess,”

“Carlisle come o--”

“Don’t call me that!”

“I don’t have any other name to call you by! What do you want me to call you??”

The man sat and thought, and his expression soured, “Fine, for now. It’s just…” he ran his hands over his face in exasperation, “It’s all fake, innit? All the memories I got, this body didn’t go through them, this mind didn’t think them. I’ve never met any of you blokes until Redd broke me out of that chair. Who knows if I even have a soul? If ANY of us have a soul! All I have is this bank of memories and knowledge that belong to a dead man, and I LOOK like said dead man, wrinkles n’ all! We’re all just piles of grey goop, all of us! All of us just this disgusting abomination of science and natur--!!”

“Wait wait, grey goop?” Thomas’ face had flushed of color, apparent even in the darkness and sparse moonlight

The man’s own face flushed, _Oh dear,_ “Uh-uh, n-nothing. Just… something Larry told me. A truth for another time, d-don’t worry about it.

“Too late, I’m going to worry about it. But not right now, this is still about you,”

“Yes, uh,” he hesitated before sighing, “You’re right about the whole ‘everything completely in-character’ thing, I’ve known that for a time now, just been pushed aside as my mind had other things rolling around in it. That stint at the campfire just removed the biggest of some of them pains, the others filing behind it,”

“What’re you on about? Spit it out,”

“I had a dream a while back, can’t remember when, but it was the only time the painful monotony was interrupted; every day I would just go to sleep and then wake up, no dreaming,” He straightened his back and looked at the filtering moonlight. A little sigh escaped, “I was in a dark space. Dunno if it was a room or outside or a void, couldn’t tell the difference between the floor and the air around me. I could see all of me just fine, just nothing else. But then a bright, glowing person was standing in front of me. It was him, the man this face is modeled after. He stared at me, gave me a little smile, then turned around and started walking away. I remember panicking, running after him, but his walking was somehow faster than my sprinting. He was getting farther and farther away from me, and nothing I did made it stop. I kept going, but eventually I tripped and fell on my face. What I tripped on I have no idea, maybe me own feet. I started crying, and I said one phrase, ‘You can’t leave. They need you, not me. I can’t be you, how can I be?’ He was there again, kneeling in front of me. He put a hand on my shoulder, gave me that little smile again, and said, ‘But I am here; you. Everything about you is in perfect sync with me, nothing you have done, are doing, or will do is anything I wouldn’t. My time is up, but I am still needed. That is why you are here.’ Then he stood up and vanished,”

“Was that the time you woke up drenched in sweat?”

“Yeah. How long ago was that?”

“About two and a half weeks ago. We were in Germany then,”

“We were in Germany?”

“... You really don’t have any recollection of the past three months, do you?”

“So it was three months, not two. I was wrong,”

Thomas blinked, “Wow. I did not know it was that serious. Sorry I didn’t speak up earlier,”

“I’m sorry I let myself spiral down so much. I must’ve worried everyone,”

“Even the ones not in our little family of brothers were concerned, so yeh, everyone,”

“... I dunno if I can accept it,”

“What?”

“What he said, in my dream. It is just a dream after all, innit?” He looked back at Thomas, eyes bright and begging, “I mean, ghosts aren’t real, yeah? They can’t visit you in your sleep, right?”

“I… dunno. I don’t think I can answer that one for you, both because I’m not a strong believer in the paranormal, even though we exist, and also I think that answer is up to you,” A shocked expression met him, “Who are you? Are you Carlisle or someone else? Who do you feel you are? Decide that here, on this old rotted log. Take all the time you need, the night is young enough. I’ll wait for your answer,”

The shock wearing off, the man turned and faced forward, eyes eventually finding themselves staring at the soil.

Time went on, maybe five minutes. Five long, drawn out minutes. He hasn’t moved, besides the telltale signs of life: breathing, ever so slight fidgeting, etc. Thomas couldn’t shake this feeling he needed to share this. He sighed quietly.

“Do you remember me telling you a new thing I found out about myself?” The man was startled out of his stupor with a little jolt that rattled the log. He looked up and shook his head before looking back down to the forest floor, “Well, have you noticed the purple monster thing that Torm and Redd have?” A slight head movement was the response, “That’s a Tom trait,” This really got the man’s attention. He snapped his gaze back to Thomas, “I know. Strange being, this Tom is,”

“No foolin’?”

“No foolin’,”

“Do others here have it?”

“The ones with some Tom in them, yeh,”

“Does Scribbs have it?”

“Conceivably, yes,”

“Do you have it?”

Thomas paused, “See that’s the thing; I don’t,” Everything about the man read confused, “When we were fleeing… that place, a lot of the clones had shifted to fight our way out. I noticed it was all in the ones with some Tom in them somewhere, after I saw one misprint Tom shift… one that didn’t make it. I thought I could jump in, help out, but no matter how deep down inside myself I dug, nothing happened. Due to the nature of our situation I couldn’t focus on it, I just grabbed Scribble and ran. Later I asked the some of the ones who made it how they did it, how they find this beast inside them and let it out. Their instructions were all the same, but no matter how exact I followed these instructions, nothing happened. We tried again and again, nothing. Sure it was a small bit of a letdown, but not in a way that was detrimental to my identity. I was happy, even. I’m even less this Tom person than I thought I was; my humor is not my only Big Mistake. I was never remotely close to him in the first place!” He let out a small, relieved chuckle, “It was freeing, honestly. Everything about my initial anger towards myself was that I was so close, but no cigar. Learning that a key part of who I was supposed to be was incorrect helped me solidify the idea that I am me, my own person; my own fancy chap with no eyes,” Some tears formed at the ends of his eyes, “It still hasn’t fully sunk in,”

There was a pause, “How does that help me?”

“Because, it doesn’t matter if things are out of place somewhere or not, it will work out for you in the end. Like I said, who are you? Who do you want to be?”

Not even ten seconds went by before the man smiled and gave a chuckle, “Y’know, if everything about me is in perfect sync with Carlisle, and there’s a space of need for this man, why not step up and fill his role?”

“That’s good, but not good enough,” This was not the response he was expecting, “Pretend the others don’t exist, pretend I don’t exist. Who are you now? Don’t be Carlisle for us all, be Carlisle for yourself. If that isn’t who you are, abandon the idea you are him completely. Do this for you, understand?”

Back to pensive staring at the ground. More time passes, Thomas’ eyelids beginning to flutter, his head bobbing. He was tired, he really was. He was almost asleep when he heard light laughter to his side.

“What? What is it?”

“I am Carlisle,” tears were falling across his face, glinting in the moonlight, “there’s no other way. Every other option in my mind feels alienating and wrong. Sure, I may not be the flesh and blood biological version of him, but in every way I am him; I am me. My name is Carlisle, little Starbucks manager that became privy to your little secret and embraced you all, became family. There’s nothing wrong with Carly, with being Carly, so why fight it? That dream ghost is right, why should I act like he isn’t?”

“... Is that your final answer?”

“Yes. The best part of all this, I really am like a brother to you all now; made up of the same stuff,”

Thomas smiled, “There’s the silver lining,” He grabbed at Carly’s coat and pulled him into a hug. Tears stained both of their clothes.

It wasn’t a long hug, but it was long enough. They pulled out, both equally exhausted and relieved.

“Now let’s get back inside, I’m freezing out here,”

“Whoo, agreed,” Thomas rubbed his hands together as they both got up and began walking back to the campsite, “Now what was that about grey goop?”

“Eh…” Carlisle looked off, “let’s save that for at least tomorrow morning, if not later. A big thing, it is,”

“Fair enough. I’ll hold it to you, you know,”

They shushed their laughter as they stepped back into the RV

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo-wee! It has been quite the white-hot minute with this series, hasn't it? It's not dead, I promise! Just... sidetracked. I got other stuff in my life that's been taking priority, but I wanna tell these stories!


End file.
